Man, I hate camping
by IHeartSam
Summary: Post Bloodlust this fic sees the brothers on a wendigo hunt. Will they survive or will their fragmented relationship cause trouble? I dont own Supernatural or the Winchesters. Spoilers for season 2.
1. Chapter 1

_**Man, I hate camping**_

A black 1970's Chevy Impala roared along U.S. Route 71on a crisp, cool winter morning that saw the Winchester brothers on their way to Redwood Falls, Minnesota where several people in the former Lower Sioux Indian reservation had mysteriously disappeared. This was another wendigo hunt and Sam was anxious given their last confrontation with such a creature and Dean's current erratic behaviour.

It had been only a few days since the vampire hunt in Red Lodge and the atmosphere in the Impala had been tense for the whole drive; Sam brooding about his brother's actions on their last gig, Dean steadfastly ignoring the purple bruise on Sam's jaw.

The younger Winchester breathed out a heavy sigh, steaming up the passenger window, and turned to Dean and began awkwardly;

"If you need to talk about something…"

Dean turned up the volume on Zepplin's When the Levee Breaks, effectively shutting out any discussion as he growled "I'm fine Sam!"

Sam gave a half snort of annoyed disbelief, turned to the window and sank down lower in his chair with his long arms folded across his chest, looking every inch a moody teenager.

Dean's eyes flashed and he clenched his jaw as he glared at his brother…Why couldn't he just leave it alone?!

No further words were spoken between the two as they booked into a cheep motel; Dean paying with their latest credit card while Sam carried in their duffle bags, weapons and his laptop. When Dean entered their small twin room moments later he was still grouchy and antsy. Sam looked up from his laptop expectantly.

"Not really in the sharing, caring mood Sammy" Dean said sarcastically, noting his brother's stare.

"Dammit Dean!" Sam exclaimed as he rose from his chair to stand at his full height. "Why won't you talk to me man? What the hell's wrong with you?"

"Don't push it Sam…" Dean warned in a low, dangerous voice, his hazel eyes alight.

"No, you know what? I think I will!" came the petulant reply.

Sam knew he shouldn't be angry at Dean, knew it just wasn't in his nature to talk about stuff -as it was in his own -but he had to get Dean to open up before he went into full blown self destruct. He eyed Dean briefly as his brother took a step towards him quivering with barely suppressed rage. His fists were clenched.

"Go ahead man, take another swing …but you can't shut me out forever-I'm your brother. I'm not going anywhere." Sam said softly, his gentle eyes unable to mask the sadness within.

Dean's puffed up anger seemed to deflate like a balloon at Sam's statement, the readiness evaporating, but he still knew that he needed to cool off so turned on his heel saying tersely, "No, but I am".

The door shut behind Dean and Sam ran a hand through his floppy hair before deciding he needed to shower.

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	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2**_

Dean stalked along the tree-lined street outside their motel thinking about what Sam had said, the dulcet, defeated voice coming back to him.

"_I'm not going anywhere"_

He huffed out a humourless laugh: he would have given anything to hear his little brother say that only weeks ago because it would have meant that he could have a family again. But none of that mattered anymore. His father, the legendary John Winchester, was dead and their family could never go back to what it had been. Sam might not be going anywhere anymore but their father had left them, had abandoned Dean, leaving him a burden so heavy and stifling that it threatened to consume him. And God! He wanted to tell Sammy everything, to share the burden, but that was the _one thing_ he couldn't do at any cost. It would tear his brother apart…the way it was tearing him apart.

He stopped his pacing when he found himself outside a fast food shop. Quickly composing himself he slid his game face back on, the pain behind his hazel eyes instantly replaced by a cheeky glint. He swaggered confidently through the door and strode up to the counter ordering a BBQ burger and fries for himself, and a pasta salad for Sam. Dean eyed the healthier food with distaste and the cute waitress behind the counter laughed. He smiled back automatically but no typical flirting quip followed; he decided he really wasn't himself. Sam was right. He _hated_ when Sam was right.

Dean returned to the motel determined to pull himself together and act normal. He refused to give his brother the satisfaction of being right.

He opened the motel room door and saw Sam standing over his duffle bag rummaging. He had clearly just got out of the shower because he was only wearing jeans and his long hair was still dripping water onto his broad shoulders.

"Hey Casper, you hungry?" Dean asked as he threw himself down on his bed, burger already in hand.

Sam looked round in surprise at Dean's bright tone. "Yeh, sure." he replied cautiously.

"Seriously dude, you need to get more sun-you're spending way too much time on that laptop o' yours." Dean said as Sam glared and promptly pulled a tee-shirt over his head.

"Whatever Fatso" he replied with a pointed look at Dean's already depleted supply of fries and the half eaten burger.

Dean almost chocked, squealing indignantly "This is pure muscle Sammy!" as he looked down at himself.

Sam's eyebrows shot up and he rolled his eyes before taking a taste of his own food. He decided that he would stop badgering Dean in the small hope that he would come to him on his own. _Yah! Right._

"So you find anything new?" Dean asked, indicating Sam's open laptop.

His younger brother nodded enthusiastically and seated himself before the blue glare as Dean watched the keen interest with a raised eyebrow.

"Such a geek…"

"Shut it chubby or you'll be going to the library tomorrow to check out the rest!" Sam threatened with an evil glint.

"You wouldn't" Dean declared. Sam merely raised an eyebrow. "Alright maybe you would. Ok I'm listening…"cough "…geek."

"Alright, "Sam began, ignoring the last reply, "The area of the Sioux Indian reservation and the Eastern bank of the Minnesota River used to be where the Isaniti Native Americans-Dakota Indians- lived in the early 1800's. Now things got bad for them in 1862 when the U.S Civil War broke out: they never got paid for their fur trading and many of the Dakotans were unable to adjust, much suffering followed and several younger men in the tribes became very angry and killed some people giving way to the Dakota War of 1862."

Dean nodded as he listened to Sam, "Now this makes a fascinating history class Sammy but eh where's the connection to the dudes that went missing?"

"Hear me out I'm getting there" Sam replied patiently, "Ok so, 1864 this U.S colonel, Sam McPhail, claimed the land at Redwood Falls and-"

""McPhail?" Dean interrupted with sudden interest. Sam looked up and smiled as his brother cottoned on, nodding as Dean continued his train of thought aloud, "Isn't that the name of one of the missing guys?"

"Yup. So anyways this guy hired some Dakota to help build some fortified house and John St. George Honner joined him, claiming the land north of Redwood Falls, and built a house in 1869. Guess the name of the other guy that went missing?" Sam asked with a significant look behind his excited eyes.

"Honner" Dean stated in a monotonous voice. He ran a hand over his mouth and sighed, "So what? You think that these guys were being _targeted_…by a wendigo." He paused for effect to let the incredulity of the statement sink in.

Sam blushed slightly, "Look I know that it sounds crazy but it's the only thing that makes sense Dean! Maybe they can have memories…check Dad's journal."

Dean acquiesced, not really expecting to find anything and gave a low curse as he flipped through the pages to land on those dedicated to wendigos. He looked up startled, giving Sam a look that conveyed something like disbelief masking horror.

"…whilst it is not common there have been some cases where wendigos seem to _target_ families of those who did harm to them in the past…"

Sam cringed as the passage was read aloud and seconded his brother's curse. Dean looked mildly impressed as he glanced over.

"So this is one smart bastard we're dealing with. And it holds a grudge. Great." Dean intoned, sitting suddenly on the edge of his bed. Sam hadn't noticed when he had started pacing but it was so common and he was used to his brother's constant need for movement. He huffed a breath in silent agreement, hoping that they weren't in over their heads.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey I know these chapters don't have much action but it will be coming soon, I promise! Thanks to those of you who reviewed. I really appreciate it.

**_Chapter 3_**

Later that evening when Dean decided he couldn't take listening to Sam tapping away on his laptop anymore they exited their motel room and headed to a diner round the corner, Dean grouching at Sam for making them walk.

"Dean! It's two blocks!" Sam began in exasperation. A cheeky glint entered his eyes and he continued sarcastically, "Mind you…that _is_ a long way for someone who doesn't care for exercise." Here he paused and gave Dean's nonexistent flab a meaningful look.

Dean arched an eyebrow in response and proceeded to swat at the back of his brother's head eliciting a laugh from said brother who turned round to catch Dean surreptitiously peering down at himself as if inspecting his weight. Sam suppressed the urge to laugh again and promptly turned away to hide his smirk which, fortunately for his head, went unnoticed.

"Come on man, the Impala will be fine" He reasoned, knowing that Dean didn't like leaving the car anywhere, he searched for a suitable word and snorted again_, unsupervised_.-as if it was a person! Dean gave a grunt that Sam took to be a reluctant agreement and they rounded the last corner and entered the dingy diner, a bell jingling overhead to alert the waitresses to their arrival.

Shortly they were seated in a corner booth with rich, warm coffee steaming before them. Dean gulped his brew down swiftly, giving a loud, drawn out 'ah' in appreciation of the thick, strong taste. Sam, on the other hand, found the drink too strong and curled his lip with ill-concealed disgust just as the waitress came over to take their orders. She scowled at him, her craggy face puckering as she tutted her disapproval. Dean gave another sigh of appreciation and she turned to him beaming.

"What can I getcha sweetie?" she asked warmly. Dean smirked at Sam who returned the gesture with a sarcastic smile.

"Can I get a steak-medium rare-and onion rings please, Glenda?" Dean said flashing a charming smile as he read the name badge pinned to her sagging chest. The old woman revealed an almost toothless mouth as she smiled in response to his 'attentions.' She then rounded on Sam.

"And you?" she said tightly.

"Eh-make that too please." He said quickly. She gave a curt nod before turning back to Dean who shrank back slightly in horror as her toothless head swam alarmingly close whilst she refilled his mug. He tried to smile back but knew that it came out as more of a grimace.

"I think you made a friend." Sam said with an amazingly straight face.

"Don't" Dean said shortly, his voice a warning. Sam raised his eyebrows in mock innocence. Dean's eyes flicked up from his coffee to glare at Sam who hurriedly took a swill from his own coffee to hide his grin.

Just then the bell over the door jingled and a distressed elderly man crashed in.

"James Pike has just gone missing!"

The brother's looked up sharply, meeting each others gaze. Dean's eyes were intense as Sam nodded at the unasked question behind the flaring.

"Shit!" Dean hissed quietly, turning to stare out of the window in contemplation. "You think there's more than one of them? Pike-that's the Island you were talking about earlier right?" He asked, turning suddenly again. His brother merely shrugged as he bit into his bottom lip.

"Well at least we can say people are being targeted…yeh, Lieutenant Pike was a colonel in the U.S Army who tried to get the Dakota to leave their reservation…they ended up confined to Pike Island at the confluence of the Mississippi and Minnesota Rivers after the war…during the winter." Sam replied. A sigh escaped him as he shrugged his tight shoulders, rubbing the muscles unconsciously.

Dean nodded, deeply in thought himself. _There could easily be two wendigo, maybe more…Pike Island is in…where was it Sammy said?…Fort Snelling National Park…the other guys went missing in the Sioux Reservation…_

"We're gonna have to split up tomorrow to investigate. " He said at last, coming to a conclusion. "You take the reservation and I'll take Pike Island, I can drop you off in the Impala and come get you when I'm done."

"Dean do you really think that's such a good idea? I mean-" Sam cut off as Glenda appeared with their food. She huffed off quickly when neither brother engaged her in conversation. Dean began talking again before his brother could.

"Look Sam" he began in a tight voice, "I'm not saying fight the things alone but we need to spilt up to go ask around or else this gig will take weeks!"

"Yeh. You're right." Sam said flatly, evidently consumed by his own thoughts. He was brought back to the present when Dean called his name in annoyance. "I was listening…I was just thinking that we might actually have to split up for this hunt; if there are two wendigos we can't afford to waste any time in killing them-they'll move on to killing anyone once they're done with Pike and the others." Sam reasoned aloud. Dean looked at him sternly.

"No way man. I'm not leaving you to fight a wendigo alone." Dean said in his big brother 'I'm pulling rank' voice. Sam half smiled at the sentiment: Dean was always trying to protect him

"I could do it alone Dean" he said softly. His brother shook his head obstinately, "No" . They were not arguing about his one. Suddenly it hit Sam: _Dean's worried he'll loose me too…_

"Sure. Nevermind we'll just work fast on this one." He said unable to hide the knowing look that passed behind his eyes. Dean looked down abruptly, like a child caught in the cookie jar. Why did Sam have to be so damn good at reading him?

"Dean-" he began, his voice filled with gentle understanding, "Man, I know how you feel, I do-"

"Don't Sam. I don't want to talk about it yet._ Please." _

Sam started at the almost pleading quality Dean's voice took on. He gulped and nodded silently, prodding at his steak half heartedly. Dean wasn't supposed to sound like that…_broken. Lost_. He had always been the one that held their family together. Sam blinked back the tears that threatened to fall at that thought. Even Dean couldn't stop their family being torn apart in the end. John was dead…the Colt gone and along with it all hope that they could kill the demon that had rent their family apart. The only hope they had to hold on to was that they could remain a small family of two. Yes Sam understood why Dean wanted to stay close. He did too.

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	4. Chapter 4

Hey-sorry about the slight delay in posting this chapter, I was having a birthday celebration and needed to recover lol! Made it nice and long to compensate. Hope you like it!

_**Chapter Four**_

The next day dawned bright and clear, the frosty ground glinting a myriad of shades in the pale gold sunlight.

Sam shivered as he closed the motel door softly and stuffed his hands into his jean pockets. It was cold out. He headed along to a nearby grocery store and picked up some bagels for breakfast, stopping by at the dinner for coffee on the way back. He grimaced when he saw that Glenda was on shift again.

"You're up early, where's that brother o' yours?" She asked peering round his substantial frame.

"He's still asleep-too early for him. Can I get two coffees please?" He asked smiling politely. Glenda narrowed her eyes at the request and shrugged, coming back with two polystyrene cups. Sam paid and left hurriedly, warming his hands on the hot beverages to stave off the early morning chill.

"Dean, I got you a coffee" Sam called out softly as he entered the motel. He was met with a groan before Dean's muscled arm snaked out from under his pillow, hand upturned expectantly. Sam shook his head, smiling at Dean's need for caffeine and passed the steaming cup down before sipping his own to find, much to his delight, that the coffee was not as bitter as it had been the previous day.

Dean heard the T.V switch on and emitted another groan as he peeled his face off his pillow and had his first sip of coffee.

"Time is it?" He asked scrubbing a hand through his short, dishevelled hair.

"6:30"

"Urg!" He grouched, pulling a face to show his disapproval of such an hour. Sam always had been a morning person. He shuddered at the thought of it as his brother continued to flip through channels before finding purchase.

"Here's one you'll like" He smiled merrily, moving so that Dean could see the television. Oprah. With that Sam drained his coffee and headed into the bathroom.

Dean's gaze fell on the bag of bagels and he munched on them contentedly waiting for Sam to get out of the shower.

"You better leave me some hot water!" He warned. When there was no reply he called out again, "I mean it! Sam? Sam?"

Dean's eyebrows drew together in concern and he got out of bed, wincing at the cold in the room. He padded quickly to the bathroom door and knocked loudly, "Sammy you hear me? Sam?"

_Something's wrong…_

His hand fumbled with the handle and, surprised to find the door unlocked, walked into the small en-suite. His little brother was strewn across the tiled floor face down, a towel wrapped about his waist. Was that blood on the floor?!

"Shit! Sam? Wake up man…come on open those eyes for me, that's it" he coaxed, hand rubbing circles over Sam's back. _What the hell happened?_

Sam heard Dean's voice, it was urgent, worried. He pulled himself awake. Why was he staring at tiles? Why was he wet? Why did his head throb so much? He groaned and pushed himself to his knees shakily, Dean's strong hands steadying him lest he should fall. Looking up he struggled to focus on Dean's fuzzy outline for a moment before the world shifted back. God! That was a nauseating feeling!

"Shit…" He murmured, fumbling at the toilet lid as his bagel made itself present.

Sam sat retching for several moments before the spasms that wracked his lean frame subsided and he was able to breath again. He hung his head wearily, arm leaning on the toilet seat for support as a cup of cool water made its way into his hand. He croaked out a thank you. Dean's voice floated to his ringing ears again.

"You alright Sammy? What happened?" he asked worriedly.

"Eh-yeh I'm ok…I was in the shower and then this vision just hit me…it was so, forceful you know… guess I passed out."

"What'd you see?" Dean enquired. Sam's visions were usually right and they usually concerned the Yellow-Eyed Demon or someone connected to him.

Sam looked up reluctantly, his expressive eyes unable to mask, was that _fear_? Much as Dean ribbed Sam for being a 'pansy' he knew that, in actuality, Sam simply did not get scared.

"What is it?" Dean said, a pit of dread forming in his stomach. Why did he have those bagels…

"It was about us, Dean…the wendigo, it…you didn't…you died." Sam finished in a hush. Dean looked at him fiercely, stating emphatically;

"Not gonna happen Sammy."

Sam nodded. They had been able to stop some of his visions before but this, this was different. It was Dean. His _brother_! If something happened…

"Nothing's gonna happen Sam…really. I'm not going anywhere." Dean said as if reading his mind, echoing his younger brother's statement the previous day. "So where did this vision, er, where was it?"

"It was at the reservation…night time I think or almost…there was a cave and you fell…" Sam trailed off, unable to finish but Dean got the gist.

"Right so I'll watch out for any caves, look where I'm going and I'll be fine!" He smiled brightly. "Come on man your head's bleeding I need to take a look at it-can't have you falling asleep on my ass, you need to be sharp!"

Sam gave a half smile and rubbed at his temples as he pulled himself to his feet. Dean reached past him to turn off the now cold shower. "Sorry" He mumbled. Dean merely shrugged and forced Sam to sit down on his bed as he prodded as his head. The small cut had already closed- probably no concussion for a change, mind you Sam was staring off quietly…at the T.V. Dean's full lips quirked upwards.

"Dude you're staring!" He laughed, motioning to the screen.

"Am not" came the lame reply.

"Nah you have the hots for Oprah." Dean quipped, easing the tension in the room, glad when his comment was followed by a snort of laughter. He could see Sam wasn't exactly comfortable sitting in just a towel…He shook his head-_what a prude._

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The same evening the brothers returned to the motel room to discuss their findings; Dean had, as planned gone to the reservation to ask around, whilst Sam headed off to Pike Island.

"Dean!" Sam called urgently, as he entered the dingy room. His brother looked up from cleaning the guns, alert and Sam breathed a sigh of relief that did not go unnoticed. "Man! I've been calling you all day, why didn't you pick up your phone? I thought-"

Dean almost cringed at the genuine distress on Sam's face as he pulled put his cell to see five missed calls. "Sorry…Sam, I'm okay quit worrying-nothing happened!"

"Quit worrying?" Sam said incredulously, anger creeping into his voice, "I almost loose you a few weeks ago in a car crash, in a car _I _was driving to get you to safety, and now I have a vision of you dying and you just blow it off as you're Mr Invincibility!"

Dean sat in a stunned silence, a gun still in hand, as Sam paced before him yelling emphatically. He made to interrupt but Sam just ploughed on unaware, gesturing wildly with hi long limbs.

"How the hell am I supposed to feel Dean? I almost got you killed and you want me not to worry about _my vision _when doing so could get you killed again?" Sam finished, turning at last to face Dean, who put down his gun and stood up, his expression strangely meek.

"Sammy-" he began softly, in the soothing voice he had used when they were kids and Sam had had a nightmare.

"Don't Dean. Just don't" Sam said with slight break in his voice. He turned away, strode out of their room and stood leaning on a railing outside trying to calm himself down by breathing in the cooling air. He sighed deeply and swallowed in an attempt to master his emotions. He couldn't cry, not again! He felt that all he had done since Jess, and now their father, was cry-why did he always loose the ones he loved? _Maybe I am cursed…_

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Meanwhile Dean stood running a hand over his mouth in agitation. Shocked didn't quite cut it. Sam had never really been that angry at him before but Dean could see the guilt swimming in Sam's eyes, could hear it in his voice…

_He thinks the car crash is his fault…that he almost killed me._

Dean shook his head sadly; when had he been so wrapped up in his own feelings about their father's death that he had failed to notice the guilt Sam had clearly been carrying around with him? How had he gotten so wrapped up that Sam had stopped feeling like he could come to him to share his problems, that Sam would rather walk out on him in their motel room-that was what _he_ did, not Sam!-than open up?

_He's trying to protect me, he doesn't think I can take anymore…maybe I can't…but Sam shouldn't have to protect me, that's my job. Dad __**made**__ that my job. _

With that Dean purposefully braced himself for the cold bite of air, finding Sam still leaning on the railing outside their room. His younger brother's jaw was clenched, his eyes bright and cheeks pink with cold. His posture was tense yet the stoop of his shoulders spoke of defeat.

"Sammy?" He began, peering up at his brother's face. Sam closed his eyes once and opened them again but didn't look up. Well at least he wasn't walking away. However Dean respected his need of some form of privacy and chose not to observe him, choosing instead to lean on the railing next to him. He paused for a moment, his own eyes focussed on something far in the distance.

"Sammy I don't blame you for what happened, it's not your fault man, it didn't happen because of you."

"But I was driving Dean, I could have killed it-Dad _begged_ me to do it-but I didn't and he died anyway and I almost killed you, I got Mom killed too…and Jess. Everything that's happened to our family has been because of me…you heard Dad, He has plans for me. It was me who He wanted but you all paid the price" Sam whispered in response, still refusing to look up.

Dean shook his head, both in denial and disbelief. How could Sam think that that was all his fault?! His gut twisted in guilt too but he couldn't tell Sam about what their father had said, he'd promised, besides he didn't know what those plans were. Bypassing this he stated vehemently, "No Sam. Everything happened to our family happened because of that damn Demon!"

"Because He wanted me" Sam interjected in a voice so sorrowful and guilty that it was almost flat.

"Sam look at me!" Dean said suddenly pulling a too yielding Sam round to face him "It is not your fault, you hear me? It's that god dam son of a bitch Demon!"

Sam nodded slowly and started when his cell rang out. He and Dean exchanged confused glances before he flipped up the lid to answer the call. Dean stood patiently, his hazel eyes questioning Sam who raised a hand and listened intently. Moments later he ended the call and said abruptly:

"Mrs Honner said she got a phone call tonight…from her husband" Sam said,wondering how she got his number, Dean must have given it to her in case of emergencies.

Dean's eyes widened.

"Should we check it out?" Sam asked reluctantly. Part of him wanted to see if Pike was still alive but the greater part of him was still fearful of loosing Dean.

Dean let out a sigh and unexpectedly slammed his fist down onto the railing, "I'm sick of this job Sam!" he said anger lacing his deep voice, "Sick of this life…all of it" He gestured to the manky motel room door. Sam stood still, not really knowing what to say. He opted for the truth.

"Me too man…me too." Dean nodded and huffed another sigh, his warm breath billowing in the cold air. "It could be the wendigo mimicking him y'know" He said, bottling his emotions, getting the job done.

"I know, but we should check it out, just to make sure" Sam replied, also putting their previous conversation out of mind.

"Yeh I know." Dean grumbled, opening the rotting door behind them to collect their gear. Five minutes later the brothers were in the Impala speeding off to the old Indian reservation, each lost in their own thoughts as the dulcet sounds of _Stairway to Heaven _washed over them.

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Ok the action starts in the next chapter! Promise! should be a fair amount of whumpage and a bit more angst too no doubt c'ause apparantly I'm a bit of a sadist :P and as this is being written for my sis and I know she is I have to put some in. Hope you all like that though! thanks for reading :)


	5. Chapter 5

Hey-sorry about the delay in posting again, my computer has been a bit temperamental lately lol! But yeh I will post the next chapter soon.

**_Chapter Five_**

It was dark when the brothers made it to the reservation and a light dusting of snow fluttered gently from the blackness overhead, obscuring the stars as it meandered down in its graceful dance.

As Dean slowed the Impala Sam felt a familiar prickling pain blossom behind his eyes.

"Oh shit!" He mumbled clutching at his throbbing temples, trying and failing, to relieve any pressure. The pain spiked through him and he groaned as nausea set in. It was so warm! Too warm. His hand fumbled for the door just as it swung open. He hadn't even noticed Dean stop the car…

"Jesus Sammy" Dean breathed, taking in his brother's wracked form; blood was dripping from his nose, sweat beading on his forehead, "Just breath through it man, breath…that's it"

Sam did as Dean advised and rode the pain but as the full force of his vision hit him he crumpled out of the car to land on the icy ground struggling against the blackness whirling round the periphery of his already limited vision. Several moments later he became aware that he was still lying on the ground, a chill settling inside him that had nothing to do with the damp snow seeping through his jeans: it was the same vision as before only they had both been injured... He shuddered as the image of his dead brother ghosted through his sluggish brain.

"It was the same as before Dean, but I was there too" he said in an almost defeated voice.

Dean's hazel eyes fired as he clenched a jaw stubbornly in protest, "No," came the firm reply, "Come on man, you're a mess…"

Sam allowed Dean to help him back into the passenger seat of the Impala as he let out a sarcastic snort, "Thanks" he muttered, wiping the blood dripping from his nose. Dean gave a cocky grin, "Don't mention it!" he said, shutting out his own doubts as he focussed on his brother: Sam was pale and sweating even though it was still snowing and cold outside. He seemed to be having trouble sitting up he looked so spent-these visions were really taking it out of him both physically and emotionally...

Dean unwittingly imagined what it would be like to watch his brother die over and over; no wonder Sam was so out of it! And just as he was about to attempt some reassuring words a scream raged through the forest to his left, bourn on a wind that pelted snowflakes at his face.

"NO! Ahh!"

The echoes of the agonised scream left a shiver chasing down Dean's back but it was the stillness of the surroundings after the echoes died away that truly chilled him. Even the wind blew in an unnatural hush. Sam's weary yet alert brown eyes stared back at him and he was sure they were the mirror image of his own hazel ones: a fierce determination, born of a stubbornness bequeathed to both brothers from their father, shone there.

They simultaneously made their way to the trunk of the Impala, wordlessly readying their gear for the hunt. Suddenly Dean turned to Sam, removing the flare gun from his hand.

"You're not coming Sam." he said in a voice that brooked no argument. But Sam was as stubborn as he was and not about to be left behind.

"What! Why not? You can't make me stay here! My vision-" he said, all his thoughts tumbling out without control.

Dean cut him off, "Was of us lying injured someplace but if you're not there that won't happen and you're still woozy from your vision and I'm not about to put you in that sort of danger and yeh, I can stop you" he replied, scarcely stopping for breath in fear that Sam would interrupt his sound reasoning. When Sam could do no more than wordlessly mouth incomprehension Dean pushed him into the car and closed the door, swiftly locking it. He then took off with only a backward glance at his younger brother who sat bellowing at him as he pounded his fists on the door of the car. Dean gave a growling wince, Sam would **so** pay for any damage to his baby!

"Dean! Don't be an ass! Come back here!" Sam yelled fruitlessly as he pounded on the window, watching Dean's retreating back.

_Typical Dean! Always ready to sacrifice himself without a thought_! Sam though bitterly. But _he_ would be the one to live with Dean's rash decision. No, he decided, he was not loosing Dean.

The passenger window of the Impala smashed as Sam brought his elbow crashing into it forcefully, the jagged splints stinging his cheeks like hail.

Clambering out Sam inspected the damage_. Dean's gonna kill me for that…_

Sam gave a mental shrug as he leant back in the car and hit the button that popped the trunk. He would gladly face Dean's wrath about the car later-once he got him back safe.

Gathering anything he might need Sam set off, hoping that he could reach Dean before he found the wendigo…or the wendigo found him. A second scream split the air and Sam swung in its direction as the unmistakable sound of his brother's voice floated to his ears with an accompanied bang as his flare gun lit up an area of forest in the distance.

"Get down!"

Fuelled by fear Sam propelled himself forward pulling out his cell, hitting the speed dial for Dean. No answer. Shit! He left a message as he scanned the ground ahead for footsteps, struggling to follow them through the new blanketing of snow.

"Dean, it's me! Where the hell are you? Pick up man. I can't believe you did that, I'm on my-"

He abruptly dropped the phone as a savage claw rent the flesh of his shoulder from behind sending him spinning towards the ground with a cry of pain. His hand fumbled in the duffle bag discarded beside his sprawled form as a sibilant cry resounded in his ears. He rolled instinctively to the side, ignoring the cry of protest sent through his arm, and stood up in one swift motion, all the training drilled into him by his father-and Dean-coming into play intuitively.

Sam grabbed a lighter from his pocket and struck it just as a claw flashed before his eyes. The wendigo drew back its long talons at the sudden spark but Sam saw that it was only surprise that had stopped it; the flame wasn't big enough to scare the beastly creature. He huffed out a humourless laugh; it barely cast back the shadows on this starless night-he needed to protect himself until he could get into the duffle bag! He dashed to a nearby branch and hurriedly stooped to pick it up, eyes struggling to follow the progress of the wendigo as it flitted behind trees with menacing shrieks, its claws rending the bark almost lustily. Sam shuddered at that thought and drew a symbol for protection, an outraged cry reaching his ears as the wendigo realised what he was doing. Before he could complete a second symbol it was upon him growling as it held his chest with stunning ferocity.

In desperation Sam blindly sought for a hold on anything that he might use as a weapon. He clutched a stone in his right palm and blindly struck out above him. A satisfying crunch met his ringing ears, quickly succeeded by a howl of pure malice. But it had given him enough time to roll free and stumble back towards to the duffle bag.

_What! Where is it? _Realisation hit Sam with a harsh slap. He had turned in the wrong direction, his spinning head warping the forest so that it all looked the same.

His slow musings were cut short as he slipped and tumbled down a short hill to land with a crack and splash in a puddle of icy water.

Shock stilled his heart for a moment, the intense cold snatching his breath greedily. The wendigo was momentarily forgotten as Sam hauled himself from the small ditch with difficulty; the water clinging to him seemed to be crystallising to ice almost immediately, weighing him down with its solidity, immobilising his quivering muscles.

His spinning head and the surging in his ears scarcely registered the crashing fall that heralded the wendigo's return before another stab in his left shoulder caused a blinding pain to lance through him severing his tenuous hold on consciousness.

A faint word escaped his lips before blackness' icy hold claimed him, "Dean…"

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Oooo sorry, lol I know nasty cliffhanger but I will post the next bit real soon! Hope you like it...:)


	6. Chapter 6

Hey, here is, as promised, the new update! Thanks to those of you who have reviewed I really appreciate your feedback! enjoy...

_**Chapter Six**_

As Dean ran through the trees he kept a wary eye out for signs of the wendigo… were there scratches on that tree? He hoped that it had indeed been Mr Honner who called his wife earlier, that it had been Mr Honner screaming- not the wendigo trying to lure him out and force him to attack. He would have called out but for the knowledge that if it wasn't Mr Honner out there screaming in pain he would be broadcasting his position to the wendigo.

"Help me! Oh thank God!" a voice moaned in relief, shattering his contemplative reverie. Dean spun on his heel and found himself facing a shaking bloodied figure, "Mr Honner?" he asked with a raise of his eyebrows. The man nodded and sunk to the ground allowing himself to weep with relief.

Dean took a deep breath and looked around, his trained eyes attempting to pierce the gloom and swirl of snow. No sign of the wendigo for now. He looked back at the figure kneeling before him as if in some form of mocking reverence and allowed his dry humour to indulge with a quick smirk that he quickly hid; this poor man had been hunted by a wendigo, a creature he wouldn't have even known about and was surely exhausted. Now was not the time for jokes. He continued watching the man for a while, eyebrows drawn together as he weighed up his injuries; they, fortunately seemed mainly superficial but judging by the uncontrollable shivering he was freezing.

"Here," He began, offering his own coat. Mr Honner's bright eyes turned up to his face and he smiled weakly, whispering his thanks though chattering teeth.

Mr Honner looked up at the tall stranger taking him in with wonder: his eyes darted back and forth amongst the trees and his posture was tensed, ready, his very demeanour that of a protector. How could he see out in that blackness? Who was this man? He seemed young but his eyes…those hazel eyes, currently lidded against the falling snow, held a sorrow and despair that spoke of age beyond years. Yet there was a fiery determination behind that, a determination that could also be seen in the set of his strong jaw. Mr Honner felt himself relax. Yes, he felt safe with this man even with that _thing _out there in the darkness. The young man spoke to him, his deep voice somehow calming and reassuring even with a single word. He stuttered a thank you, cringing at his own high pitched nasal voice and accepted the proffered item of clothing and the hand that followed closely after. It was calloused and strong and he found himself again wondering who his rescuer was. He hadn't realised he had lent a voice to the nagging question until the man answered.

"My name is Dean. Come on - we need to get you out of here before the wendigo comes back" He said tersely, eyes still focussed on things that Mr Honner couldn't see.

Dean cringed at the man's loose tongue as he blurted another question, "A wendigo? Is that the-?", He swung round to face Mr Honner with an irritated expression painted across his face, "Be quiet! Do you want it to know where we are?" he hissed. Mr Honner paled notably and shook his head in meek silence. Dean almost apologised for being harsh but stayed his own tongue and hurried back towards the Impala and Sam.

Lost in guilty thoughts he heard a snap behind Mr Honner and the man promptly screamed in horror. Damn this snow! He'd not heard the wendigo sneaking up on them! Shoving Mr Honner to the ground he ripped the flare gun from his waistband and swung it to face the creature howling before them, black eyes glittering maliciously. Dean was unable to stop the shudder that ran through his blood at the knowledge that this had once been a man…

"Get down!" He screamed as Mr Honner rose his head. He took aim at the wendigo as it approached but it moved in a blink and his flare arced across the grey sky leaving a golden plume of glitter meandering in its wake. It exploded with a hiss as it struck a tree behind the wendigo, tiny flames licking round the tree even as the snow doused the flames and sent smoke billowing upwards.

"Shit!" Dean cursed, throwing aside the now-useless weapon. _Where's the wendigo?_ he thought as he rushed to Mr Honner's side. The man emitted a keening wail of despair as the wendigo appeared to their right, evidently unafraid of the lack of fire from the tree nearby. It gave a terrible ululating cry as it tore forwards.

Dean raised an arm instinctively, knowing that it would be useless against defending the claws of a wendigo but just as he steeled himself for its onslaught his phone rang out, the jingle echoing loudly around them. It had a shocking but welcome effect on the wendigo which screamed at the unnatural noise and dove into the trees.

Dean let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding, that had been too close for comfort. Maybe he should have heeded Sam's warnings more._ Shit! Sam!_ He glanced down at his cell the glowing words telling him his brother had left a message. Even as the thoughts formed in his head they were confirmed: Sam had come to help him, had seen the flare and unwittingly chased the wendigo away by calling but what if…

His fears were realised as Sam's concerned voice suddenly exploded in pain down the receiver. Sam had drawn the wendigo to himself! Dean listened sharing his brother's agony as he heard the unmistakable whir of the wendigo's swift claws. He fought for control as tears welled in his eyes as he heard every sound muffled through the phone; there was a faint splash and Dean recognised Sam's gasp when the sound of malevolent hissing carried to the evidently lost phone…his little brother's cry speared through him with equal pain…_Why didn't I listen? I should never have left him in the car! What have I done?!_ A futile spark of hope that Sam was okay ignited in him for the briefest of moments as he fancied he heard Sam whisper his name but it winked out seconds later. The silence that followed doing little to assuage his guilt.

"Sammy…" He whispered brokenly, clutching at the phone as if it would somehow keep Sam alive. The low whirring of the dialling tone met his ears sounding as empty and hollow as he felt and he still stood motionless with horror until that too fell silent, stealing away the fragile connection to Sam.

"Sammy!" He repeated, anguish evident in the break of his voice and the stoop of his shoulders.

Mr Honner watched him, brows pinched in sympathy for it was obvious something had happened to someone he cared for deeply and, given the protective streak he sensed, he deduced that it was perhaps Dean's brother…Sammy…his younger brother no doubt, he thought, almost smiling at his inability not to formulate ideas about people. Sometimes he hated his profession! Just as he was about to talk to the grief stricken individual he turned around. His eyes were now hard mirroring the set of his features as the fiery determination glowed through.

"Come on" he said and with that he dialled Sam's number and listened for its ring in the surrounding forest.

"Over there!" Honner called excitedly. Dean pushed past him, walking at a furious pace in the direction of his outstretched finger. A few minutes later he stooped to pick up his brother's lost phone ,eyes taking in the duffle bag and all the marks on the snow: there was lots of blood and Dean had to swallow the bile that rose in his throat at the coppery smell and the knowledge that it was Sam's blood.

_So much blood…_ He thought as he followed its trail, _Sammy where are you?_

Several minutes passed till Dean stood beside the puddle Sam had crashed into his eyes suddenly drawn to the yawning mouth of a cave a hundred metres ahead. Sam was in that cave. He knew that without even looking at the drag marks in the snow.

"I'm coming Sammy," he said as he headed off, Mr Honner following silently behind, too afraid to stay inside the circle of protection Dean had scrawled hastily in the snow for him.

"I'm coming."

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yeh sorry for another cliffy but I was writing this in the wee hours of the morning and got reeeeally tired! I probably wont be able to updat until tomorrow cause I have a leaver's ceremony to go to tonight-sorry! hope you like it .


	7. Chapter 7

Okay so here's the next bunch of installments-I decided to upload two chapters as a thank you to those of you who reviewed and were waiting for this so anxiously lol - hope I dont disappoint!

**_Chapter 7_**

Mr Honner trotted after Dean anxiously, his light blue eyes flitting fearfully to the shadows surrounding them as if mimicking Dean's alert watchfulness. He wrung his hands together and winced as he brushed the rope marks on his wrists.

"I can't go back in there!" he blurted. Dean spun to face him, eyes glittering dangerously.

"What?" he demanded. Mr Honner swallowed. The young man was very intimidating… "Er, I …I don't want to go back in there!"

Dean's eyes widened as he realised Mr Honner had indeed been inside before. "Go back? You-how did you manage to escape?" He asked stepping nearer to the quivering Honner, holding him in place with the intensity of his gaze.

"My wrists were tied but the rope must have been old-I manage to get loose. I just ran after that. I don't know where the _wendigo?_ I don't know where it was…perhaps it heard your car."

Dean nodded, not really listening to the last part, lost in his own thoughts. Sammy was probably being trusted up right now by the wendigo! He had to help him, save him! It was his job. He determinedly set off again for the cave stopping abruptly when Honner called out.

"I don't want to go back in there…I can't!" he whimpered. He was still standing in the exact spot Dean had left him in. Damn it! He didn't have time for this! Sammy was hurt and in danger! "Then stay here!" he shouted angrily. He promptly weaved through more trees, heading for the mouth of the cave.

Mr Honner shrank back, took one look at the surrounding forest and the circle of protection behind him and decided he would still feel safer in the cave with Dean protecting him. He seemed to know what he was doing. He rushed back to his side and Dean scowled at his noise before turning his intent gaze back to the inky darkness welling out before them.

"Stay close" he whispered over his shoulder. He pushed Sam's flare gun into Honner's palm wordlessly and pulled the small can of compressed gas from his pocket, along with his lighter, glad he had restocked from the discarded duffle bag. Honner kept silent and stepped into the stifling darkness behind Dean unable to still his shaking shoulders. This was a mistake...

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Pain returned first. An intense spiking running the length of his left arm and shoulder, spreading out across his back. Sam groaned and tried to shift but found his arms pinned back above his head. That would explain the pain in his other shoulder…

He tried to force open his heavy eyes but they wouldn't obey his will and fluttered closed again as a spasm wracked through his body. It was so cold! _No! stay awake!_ A snarling behind him gave him the strength to open his eyes and he strained them wide trying to see the wendigo.

_It's so dark…__**are**__ my eyes open?_

Sam felt a tug on the ropes binding him to the ceiling and wondered dimly why the wendigo was checking them. Its hot breath reeked of carrion. He grimaced and tried to pull away from its presence, the small movement jarring through his body sending blinding flashes of hot pain down his arm and across his chest. Stars swam before him as another noise met his ears.

"Shut up!" the voice hissed. Sam's eyebrows drew together in consternation. He recognised that voice but surely he was imagining things. Maybe he was dreaming… "Did you hear that?" The deep voice ground out as Sam groaned.

"Dean?" he whispered, his voice cracking. A swirl of wind brushed his long hair into his eyes-the wendigo! "Dean look out!" he called finding his voice properly this time.

A shot was fired and a sudden flare of light illuminated the cave causing Sam to close his eyes. He breathed a sigh of relief. Dean must have-

"NO!" a scream jolted him shattering his momentary relief. _What the hell was going on?!_

"Get back!" It was Dean's voice again. Sam called out to him as he pulled against his bindings trying to ignore the stabbing that shot through him at every movement. He needed to help his brother.

Suddenly there was a whoosh and the cave was again illuminated, this time with a warmer red hued glow. A light breeze wafted the smoky mist through to Sam, banishing the damp must of the cave as more words carried to him. "Go! To the circle!" The whooshing stopped and Sam heard footsteps, hurried, stumbling footsteps and then red flames blew up again, this time dim, further away. A horrible shrieking reached his ears as if the wendigo was in pain. Hope ignited within him.

"Dean?!" he called, expecting to see his brother's figure appear round the corner any second. He scrunched his face in confusion; the footsteps were quieter, the sudden light further away. Where was Dean? He closed his eyes and trained his ears for any noise, shutting down all other senses.

Nothing. _Shit!_

"I'm comin' Sammy! Hang on!" Sam let out his breath. Dean was alive but his deep voice was being carried from afar, the echoes warping its warm tone to something sinister and hissing.

The wendigo screamed and Sam heard a dull thud. The light went out. He tensed.

"Run!" Dean screamed. The wendigo's sibilant cry of rage carried back to Sam as he fought to free himself. Without warning he jolted down as the rope frayed, unable to stifle the gasp of pain that escaped his lips. He turned his gaze upward, struggling to focus on one of the three ropes above him as the strands unwound with agonising slowness sending him crashing to the rocky floor with a thud.

White pain exploded through him before that light too went out and he slipped back into unconsciousness for a second time.

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	8. Chapter 8

**_Chapter 8_**

As Dean paced through the damp cave he ignored the heavy tread of his own boots, the shuffling stutter of Mr Honner, the dripping of the damp walls, concentrating solely on what may be hidden in the darkness ahead. _Come on you bastard! Where are you…?_

Mr Honner cursed behind him as he stumbled over a loose rock. Dean whipped round to him, "Shut up!" he said, his eyes sparking dangerously. Honner shrugged helplessly and mouthed an apology. Dean only growled back silently and turned his attention to the passage ahead.

The hairs on his neck suddenly stood on end, his hunter senses tingling. He raised his hand to stop Honner and listened intently. There it was again! "Did you hear that?" he said lowly to Honner, wincing as the cave walls magnified his whisper and sent it back to him many times as if mocking his foolishness. He didn't even bother to see if Honner was nodding agreement - he knew he'd heard Sam. Just as he was about to move again his brother's strained voice called out urgently.

"Dean look out!" _look out…out…out… _the echoes seemed to second his warning.

Dean's instincts kicked in and he struck his lighter just as a loud blast shocked him to stillness. Honner jumped into him knocking the lighter. He met Mr Honner's wide-eyed stare through the haze of smoke snaking from the flare gun still held in his white fist. A fraction of a second later he turned away to see the vague elongated shadow of the wendigo. Why did he trust Honner with that gun?!

He didn't have enough time to curse himself further as Honner let out a shrill scream as he too registered the shape before them. "No!" he cried, terror freezing him to immobility.

"Get back!" Dean ordered as he dropped to his knees and fumbled for the lighter, not taking his eyes from the approaching shadow. He dimly registered Sam calling out again-no doubt in worry for him- but he shut out the intrusion to his concentration, Sam would have to wait...

His numb fingers found purchase on the even colder surface of the lighter and he struck it to life as he held the can of gas before it sending a stream of flame surging out.

"Go! To the circle!" Dean shouted over the screaming wendigo and hissing, burning gas. He turned, shoving Honner ahead f him as he checked over his shoulder. _Shit it was fast! _He heard Honner whimper but his shambling run could also be heard quickly retreating. He stopped to face the wendigo again sending a plume of flames belching out before him. It screamed in frustration and he began retreating.

"Dean?!" Sam shouted, his voice equal parts concern and hope. _Sorry Sammy…_

The wendigo stalked forward, the slow movement more frightening than its usual speed. The red flames danced in its glittering black eyes as it uttered a whispering rasp, reaching out its clawed fingers, "Honner!"

Dean stumbled in shock. _What the hell?! It __**does**__ have a memory! _He took several more steps backwards, shooting out flames as he went. _It has a memory…Sam was right! Shit Sam!_

"I'm comin' Sammy! Hold on!" he called, hoping Sam could wait, that he wasn't in too much pain.

The flames sputtered for a moment, casting the cave back into darkness and Dean shook the canister urgently. _Come on! _

In that brief moment the wendigo reared before him and he found himself thrown back into the unyielding wall, the sudden return of the flame causing the beast to howl in fear. As he hit the wall the flame was silenced and the canister rolled from his outstretched hand. "Run!" he shouted as the wendigo whirred past him after Honner. He fought to his feet, a dull pain already blossoming in his side and back…that was gonna hurt tomorrow!

As his spinning head finally righted itself he stood for the briefest moment stuck in indecision; Sam needed his help, he was hurt, yet Honner needed it too…

Sam's gasp of pain was enough to decide for him. _Sammy needs me…_he took a regretful last look to the dull light from the cave entrance, no noise met his ears…_Besides_, he gave a mental shrug, _if Honner hasn't made it to the circle by now the wendigo will already have him. _

With that Dean rounded the corner just in time to see Sam's limp body plummet to the ground.

"Sammy!" he said as he sped forwards in a futile attempt to catch his little brother. "You okay man?" he said as he knelt down, ignoring the protest of his ribs at the movement. There was no reply as he turned Sam onto his back, grimacing at the warm coating of blood seeping over his shoulder.

"Shit Sammy, wake up man!"

"Dean?" came the whispered groan. Dean breathed a sigh of relief, "Thank God!"

Sam smiled amidst his pain as he caught the exclamation. Somehow he'd known Dean would find him…

"Sorry" his voice was barely audible. He shivered partly from pain, partly from his wet clothes and the deep chill settling inside him.

"What! Why?" Dean's voice was incredulous but it seemed so far away…why was it so cold? "Sam! Stay with me dude, come on sit up."

Dean winced as Sam screwed up his face in pain, fighting against his frozen muscles to effort much even with Dean helping.

"'m s-sorry for bein' stupid and getting caught by the wendigo…I was ss-supposed to be helping you…" he slurred in belated response.

"Nah Sam if it wasn't for your call we'd be a lot worse off-I should never have left you inside the car-this would never have happened to you…_I'm_ sorry." Dean replied, his head hung in guilt as he avoided Sam's sympathetic gaze. He didn't need understanding right now. He released Sam's wrists from the rope with the Swiss Army knife his father had given him and fought back a lump in his throat at the memory it evoked. _My 16__th__ birthday…he was so proud…_

Sam's gentle voice interrupted his wandering thoughts, stopping them before they became too painful, "Dean it's not your fault. I know why you did it."

"Yeh well…shut up dude!" he said with a huffed laugh of discomfort, failing to come up with a decent retort to dissipate the chick flick moment. Sam smiled back and ran a hand through his tousled hair awkwardly.

"Help me up" he said. Dean obliged and they both winced at sharp pains in unison.

"Dude you alright?" they chorused.

"I'm fine Sam-how bad is your shoulder?" Dean said anxiously, big brother mode in full swing as he prodded the sodden clothing aside.

"I'll be okay. We just need to get outta here…God it's cold!"

"Damn it Sam this is bad, you've lost a lot of blood!" Dean exclaimed almost angrily.

"It's fine for now," Sam lied, pulling away from the intrusive pain that Dean's ghosting fingers caused. Suddenly a thought struck him harshly, "Dude, where's Honner?"

Dean's hazel eyes flicked up to meet his own, filled with anxious guilt. He was sick of seeing that emotion swimming behind those eyes! "He ran for the protective circle outside."

"But I didn't finish it!" Sam said urgently, trying to push past Dean to rectify his error.

"I did!" Dean stayed him with a hand, "I had to make sure you were…you know…" he patted Sam's chest as if checking its solidity and his brother finished for him, "Still here?"

Dean nodded. "He must be okay or we would have heard something and I would have gone to help him"

Sam was about to tell Dean he knew that he wouldn't just abandon the guy, to stop feeling so god damn guilty! when he blurted another question with urgency.

"Dean! Where's the wendigo?"

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Thanks to everyone for reading-especially those of you who have reviewed as it's keeping me motivated! will update really soon!


	9. Chapter 9

Hey everyone, sorry for the lateness in posting I've been really busy lately but I won't keep you waiting any longer with ramblings. Now you get to find out whate happened to Honner...dun dund duuuuuuuuuuuuuuun!

_**Chapter 9**_

"Oh my god! Oh my god" Honner whined, looking dubiously at the markings in the snow around him. Did these really stop the wendigo?

"I must be loosing it!" he mumbled aloud as he named the beast. I couldn't be real! No, no this was all a bad-a _very_ bad- dream and he would wake up any minute now. Any minute…

Dean's urgent call reverberated from the cave but he never rounded the corner. Honner strained his eyes against the still falling snow and darkness, trying to see the outline of his figure; the broad shoulders, arrogant swagger…anything? He moaned as he realised he was alone with only these symbols to keep him safe. But if Dean said they would work he would trust them-he had to.

With his sky blue eyes trained to the cave mouth in anticipation he saw the outline of the wendigo, the nightmarish creature that had stalked him. What did it want?! An unbidden shudder ran through him, part fear, part adrenaline.

"What do I do? What do I do?" he murmured, eyes questing for anything to use as a weapon…damn! The stick was too far away-outside the circle.

The wendigo hissed loudly, the sound magnified by the cave walls so that it seemed the very cave itself spewed forth the hideous noise from its gaping maw. Suddenly the fear overtook any adrenaline and Honner found himself on his knees in the snow as the wendigo flitted amongst the trees faster than he could watch. _It's so fast! How will I ever escape it? _

A second voice in his head answered for him. _You wont_, it taunted. Honner tried to push away such negativity-he had survived so far. _Only because of _Dean_…_

The wendigo came out of the shaded cover of the dense evergreen foliage surrounding the circle and Honner screamed in horror at the sight of it: huge elongated claws extended from its sinewy forearms, its skin was taut over its grizzled bones, eyes alight with a lusty hunger for-

"Honner!" it croaked, menace dripping from its words. _It wants me!_

It reared before him outside the circle of protection and screamed in rage as it was flung back from the symbols, unable to cross the invisible barrier. Honner found tears of relief cascading down his cold cheeks and he snuggled deeper into the warmth of the leather jacket Dean had given him to wear. The feeling of warmth was short lived as the wendigo squealed sibilantly again, the cry sending icy rivers of fear through his veins as he covered his ears in a futile attempt to block out the invading noise. It circled him, eyes glittering with a malicious promise, and raked its fungal claws through the deep snow…deep snow!

Honner's eyes widened with renewed horror and fear fighting for first place in his gaze as he looked round the circle to find that the snow was filling in the markings protecting him. He had to renew them before their outline disappeared!

Without a second thought Honner stretched out his finger, eyes flicking up to the wendigo, and began hastily tracing the symbol in the snow. The wendigo screamed in rage as it realised what he was doing, the noise startling Honner so that he fell forward and his hand slipped outside the ring of protection. The wendigo's cry of rage morphed into one of glee and before Honner even knew what was happening he felt its claws puncture his skin, stabbing right through his hand to the ground.

His own scream of pain joined the wendigo's hiss of joy and as its claws retracted for a second shot at him he retreated into the circle, cradling his hand as new tears traversed the contours of his face.

"Hey fugly! Come get me-I taste good!"

Honner's pain-filled eyes flicked up to see the outlines of Dean and his brother Sam. They each held weapons before them though Honner could not tell what through the swirling snow. The request was repeated and Honner now recognised the speaker as Dean, his deep voice dangerous and commanding.

"Oh thank god!" Honner gasped. He was safe now! He crumpled up in a ball of tears as relief and pain warred within him even as the wendigo warred with the Winchester brother's outside the protective circle.

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Okay so I hope you liked that cause I know everyone seems to really like honner and I didn't want to be too cruel to him! Next update will probably be at some point later tonight where you will all find out how the Winchesters fare against the wendigo. Thanks for reading xx


	10. Chapter 10

Yeh sorry this took so long to post-been packing for a holiday and the chapter ended up being a lot longer than I expected and I couldn't post it in 2 stages cause it didn't quite work. Hope you enjoy it!

**_Chapter 10_**

"Hey fugly! Come get me-I taste good!" Dean shouted. The figure of the wendigo was looming over Mr Honner who snatched back his hand, cradling the injured limb in the crook of an arm.

"Dean" Sam said softly, his voice a warning.

"I know what I'm doing Sam!" Dean whispered back in agitation, "Hey fugly! Come get me-I taste good!" he repeated, throwing in a glance at Sam for good measure. His kid brother wore the scowl he reserved only for Dean.

Sam looked at his brother, lips tight as he surveyed him with worry. He was so reckless lately! Sam shivered as the memory of Dean decapitating the vampire in Red Lodge returned to him, wincing as the motion sent ripples of pain flowing through him. Sam looked down at his shoulder gauging his blood loss as sparks danced across his vision, taunting him with the knowledge that he would soon pass out if he didn't sit down. His shaking hands fumbled with the ammo for the flare gun. The wendigo shrieked.

_No! I have to help Dean! _finding a hidden strength Sam snapped the safety off and cocked his readied gun, walking off to the left as Dean took the right. They didn't even need to discuss the manoeuvre, they had always done it that way ever since their father had trained them. At least his training lived on after his death…

"I said come get it bitch!" Dean hollered again smiling humourlessly as the wendigo howled its challenge back. _Let it come._

As he circled round the right side of the wendigo he caught sight of Mr Honner. He was bloodied and shivering. _Have to get him out of here…and Sammy too…_

Dean flicked his hazel eyes to the opposite side of the clearing glad to note that Sam's wavering arm had found a renewed strength as adrenaline coursed through his veins. Centring his attention back on the threat of the wendigo the elder Winchester allowed his instincts to take over. Alert eyes registered its long limb twitch and Dean anticipated its move with perfection so that just as it flew forwards he let off the flaming gas, stepping forward to meet it.

The firey gas belched out to encompass the wendigo only to be denied its prey at the last moment as the wendigo swiftly altered course.

"Dean! Behind-" Sam's loud voice sang through the dense air but Dean was already spinning on his heel letting loose more licking flames as he swung round to meet the wendigo. It hissed in rage and fear, again drawing back from the flaming gas. Dean could see the intelligence in its dark eyes, the flames reflected in that black void only adding to its menace. The lights went out as Dean cut the supply of gas, conserving the little remaining inside the canister. They needed to wrap things up.

_We need to wrap things up, _Sam thought as he took aim at the sinewy back of the wendigo. He released the trigger and his flare arched through the sky casting the surrounding forest in a stark gold light, deepening the shadows. Still the snow danced from overhead.

_Shit! _The wendigo swerved away from the offending bullet, alerted to its presence by its hiss as it soared through the sky. Sam dropped to his knees quickly, his numb fingers reloading the flare automatically as he kept his dark eyes trained on the beast. Dean let out more gas to distract the wendigo, to stall it, give him time and Sam sent him silent thanks as he lifted his arm.

"Come on Sammy" Dean muttered, willing his brother not to miss a second time. The gun went off. The wendigo swirled back towards Dean, attention drawn to him again at his whispered encouragement. _Shit! _His brain barely had time to register the danger as the wendigo took three lurching strides towards him, avoiding the flare with its swift movements. He stumbled and fell in his haste to retreat, landing on his back in the cold snow, narrowly avoiding an outstretched claw. Dean allowed the gas to flow again and it surged out hungrily only to falter and sputter to a dry stop.

The wendigo hissed in joy as its hunter fell to the ground, now weaponless. Sam cried out as if in supplication as his shaking hands sought to reload the flare gun one last time and an unexpected voice joined the melee of noise.

"No! You don't want him, you want me!"

Sam momentarily stopped fumbling with his gun and looked up to see Mr Honner kneeling-thankfully inside the circle of protection-his arms raised, palms out as he beseeched the wendigo. Sam's pale face took on a grim set: the creature may have once been human but any humanity in it was long gone, begging would get them nowhere. It would only buy time! He cocked his gun just as Dean rolled out from under the wendigo, a claw slash marring his handsome features, and staggered to a tree for support. His aim was true this time; the flare erupted as it cleaved a path through the darkness as if drawn to the wendigo. It let out a hiss of pain but the flare had only nicked its upper arm, wounding it. The flare kept going. The wendigo shot into the trees.

"No!"

"Get down!"

"Shit!"

Three voices cried out in unison as the flare ricocheted and arched towards Dean. He dove aside, landing in a forward roll, as it struck the bark in a flaming explosion. Splinters of burning bark leapt from the tree, one smacking into Dean's head from behind causing him to slump face down in the snow.

Sam threw up an arm to shield himself from the debris and blinding light, Honner mirroring his pose a few yards away. Sam caught snatches of his frantic mutterings.

"Oh my god….all going to die…my fault…wants me…help!"

"We're gonna get you outta here Mr Honner" Sam called, meeting his terror filled gaze for a moment before he turned his attention back to the flaming tree and his sibling.

Honner saw the surety in Sam's honest eyes and despite how obviously injured the tall young man was, Honner believed him. He had seen him fight and he was the equal of his brother Dean. He felt himself relax slightly until a pang of pain shot through his hand.

Honner craned his neck to look for the older Winchester and winced when he saw him; he was lying surrounded by a pile of flaming splinters, his prone form already covered by a dusting of snow. His young brother was stalking towards him, his long body crouched, brown eyes large in the gloom as he took in the situation. Again Honner wondered who these young men were; they were like _hunters_ or…

"Dean! Dean?" Sam called, his voice low yet urgent. He could feel himself flagging again. He needed Dean to wake up and help him with the wendigo. A gurgling murmur off to his left made him stop and listen. The wendigo had come back to finish them off. He turned in time to see it emerge from under the canopy of trees, growling in menace. His shrewd gaze noticed its slight limp; the way it favoured one side; the way it hardly moved its injured arm; and he allowed a wry smirk to cross his features. _Now we're more even_. He mentally shook his head to banish the thought-he was getting more like Dean every day!

Sam raised his flare gun and pulled the trigger. It popped but nothing happened and he realised belatedly that he had already used the last shot. He muttered an expletive that Dean would have been proud of had he been awake to hear it and glanced to him as he called his name in an attempt to rouse him. He responded with a low moan and shifted slightly, the movement releasing a small plume of smoke as a splinter snuffed out with a last bright spark.

The wendigo drew back cautiously and Sam suddenly realised that Dean was in a sort of protective circle so long as the splinters stayed alight. They were half burned down. Honner must have noticed his meaningful glance at the flames because he shouted out.

"Hurry! They're almost burned down!" his sudden outburst again drew the wendigo's attention and it hissed at him, "Honner! Kill…" He withdrew to the centre of the circle, seeking to put extra distance between him and the hideous beast.

Sam stepped over a log and into the flaming circle alongside Dean. He picked up a fiercely burning log and held it out to the side of the circle where the deterrent was least.

"Dean! Wake up! Wake up now! Dean!"

Sam's frantic voice made it's way into the warm void Dean was swimming in…it was urgent, pleading and commanding all at once and Dean responded.

"Oh thank god!" Sam breathed, the feeling of relief almost dizzying. He faltered an sank to a knee, one hand still resting on Dean's shoulder.

"'m awake, get off me" the gruff voice sounded and Sam found his hand shaken off. His vision swam and he then he was staring back at his brother's stern countenance.

"Sam are y-" he began, concern lacing his gravely tones.

"We need to hurry Dean, you've been out a while and the flare gun's empty…" Sam interrupted. Dean listened and his eyes darted round filling in the rest; they were surrounded by gently flaming debris, Honner was in his own protective circle and the wendigo was prowling hungrily round it. Honner let out a whimper that carried to him and Dean was spurred into action.

He rose suddenly and picked up a flaming log of his own, his eyes intense as he concentrated on the surroundings, his quick mind formulating a plan. He relayed the idea to Sam.

"What? Are you crazy? That could get us all killed!" _Not the response I was looking for…_

Sam's head spun at his vehement exclamation and he faltered, sinking back to the cold ground as he started to rise. Dean failed to notice as he was reeling off reason why his plan was sound, his gaze locked on the figure of the wendigo, keeping its position known. Sam felt himself nod, too tired and weak to listen.

"Okay, okay" came his younger brother's murmured response. Dean momentarily wondered why Sam was acquiescing so hastily-he usually put up more of a fight when he thought Dean's ideas were dangerous- and he glanced at him swiftly. He was pale and a sheen of sweat mingled with the melted snow on his face and hair. He was flagging.

"Sammy you okay?" he said, his strong steady hand balancing a listing Sam.

"We need to hurry Dean" Sam replied obstinately as he pushed to his feet.

_Stubborn jackass…_Dean surveyed his brother one last time before giving a terse nod. They did need to hurry, Sam's adrenaline wasn't enough to keep him going anymore and he needed to stitch that shoulder… "Yeh. You ready?" Dean flashed a smile of anticipation as Sam weakly nodded, visibly steeling himself as he then took a deep breath to regain composure. His hand shook less when he was done. _Atta boy Sammy…__**Get the job done… **__Dad would be proud…_

Honner had been muttering frantically the entire time, drawing the wendigo's attention from the plotting Winchesters as they made ready but as he saw their nodding agreements his strength of will gave out and he collapsed in his circle in fear. He couldn't stare at the face of the wendigo any longer! Its eyes bored into him, freezing him to the marrow, sapping him of any strength. "Hurry!" he screamed, blinded by his tears as he let shivers take him over.

The wendigo spun round suddenly aware of what was happening. "Dean" Sam warned. He sensed rather than saw his brother nod and they walked side by side towards the wendigo, flaming brands held aloft. As the wendigo drew away to stand before the cave mouth, unable to back up due to the circle of protection, the brothers shifted positions so that Dean faced it and Sam had his back to Dean's; the wendigo couldn't sneak up on them now, it would be met with fire from both sides.

Dean paced forwards slowly, Sam's presence following close, herding the wendigo. It backed up further, the cave mouth looming ever closer behind it as if ready to swallow it in hungry, gaping jaws. Dean smiled grimly. It wasn't far off…

A metallic clunk sounded and the wendigo looked down. Its clawed foot had brushed over Dean's discarded gas cylinder and its intelligent eyes widened in realisation that it had been pushed into a trap. It howled.

"Now!" Dean screamed. He lobbed his flaming torch just as Sam spun round and cast his own with his good arm. He didn't wait to see if his brother's aim was true because he knew his own was. He grabbed Sam by the waist and hauled him to the ground in a tackling motion just as the wood struck the canister and sent forth a spewing cloud of flames.

Honner found himself flung to the ground with the force of the blast and he looked up to see the wendigo erupt in flames as they spread hungrily over its hideous body, questing tendrils of smoke wafting over to caress his cheek. His blue eyes smarted and he blinked back sudden tears, straining to pierce the dense cloud hanging over the ground. He made out the dim shape of the cave entrance as the smoke began to clear, sucked into its mouth in ragged gasps and out of the haze two figures could be seen on the ground, just beginning to stir. Honner's face cracked into a joyous smile.

"Thank you!" Honner whispered. He crawled out of his circle and pushed to his knees with difficulty, his smile banished as he realised Dean was half-dragging Sam's limp form out of the smoky haze. "Oh no" he breathed as he rushed forwards.

Dean struggled with Sam's deadweight, huffing out loud breaths with each step, the cloying smoke taunting him. "Come on!" he groused. Suddenly Honner was at his side pulling Sam too. He met the older man's sad, questioning gaze sure the same sentiment was reflected in his own eyes.

"Put 'im down" he ordered as he dropped to his knees over Sam. He angrily wiped tears from his face knowing it wasn't just the smoke. He barely noticed Honner's presence as he leant over Sam's torso to check his breathing. _Thank god!_ "Sammy? Sammy wake up! Come on man please? I'm sorry! Just wake up Sam, come on…"

Honner watched in amazement as the stern young man he had encountered became pleading and needy, his bright eyes swimming with guilt and sorrow. He somehow knew this didn't occur often, that it was only to do with his kid brother and he suddenly felt intrusive and quietly slipped away a few steps.

"Sammy, come on man! you think I can carry your heavy ass back to the car by myself?!" Dean said in a half hearted quip. Sam's brown eyes fluttered open and he had a gentle smile on his face amidst his pain as he said with genuine amusement, "You'd manage fatso, got a lotta weight to put behind it too…"

Dean let himself slide to the ground in relief, his head hanging between his legs as he sucked in grateful lungfuls of air to calm himself. He ran a hand over his mouth and met Sam's gaze, the pain in his brother's eyes enough to spur him into action again.

"Come on, get up…" he said as he grabbed Sam under the arms and hauled him to his feet, ignoring his own protesting ribs. Honner reappeared and together they walked back to the Impala, Sam supported by one of them under each long arm.

Just as Dean was about to usher Sam into the passenger seat he caught sight of the missing window. He paced a few steps forwards and leaned closer to inspect the damage before rounding on Sam, his eyebrows quirked as he raised his palms out in expectation.

"Eh-I eh…I can explain…" Sam began hastily, his eyes shinning imploringly. Dean's posture seemed to soften and he merely grunted and brushed the remaining shards from the seat and pushed Sam inside.

"Sorry man I just-"

"Sammy stop," Dean said softly, hanging his head again as he knelt in the snow, "I don't care about the Impala man, I'm just glad you're…" he cleared his throat awkwardly but was saved the trouble of finishing as Sam said, "I know man. Thanks." A small smile graced his pained countenance.

Dean looked up sharply, his face incredulous, "Why are you thanking me?! I almost got you killed!"

Sam's eyebrows pinched together, "Dean…" his voice spoke of sympathetic exasperation and he refused to let Dean interrupt as he continued loudly, "It is not your fault Dean. I would have done the same thing. You need to stop blaming yourself for this! For everything! Dad…all of it…it's not your fault man."

Dean's jaw clenched as Sam mentioned their father and he stood abruptly and made his way to the trunk to get the first aid kit, brushing past a stunned and confused Honner on the way.

"Dude, talk to me…" Dean refused to meet Sam's beseeching puppy eyes. "I can't Sammy" he whispered brokenly, "Not yet. Lets just get you cleaned up huh"

Sam was shocked to see his brother wipe his eyes. He raised his eyebrows and smirked as Dean muttered about it being the snow in his eyes. _No chick flick moments right…_

Honner watched in silence as the two brothers interacted with one another; Dean dressing Sam's wounds as best he could as the youngest of the duo sat back quietly, allowing the ministrations without complaint of pain even as he became more ashen. Honner shook his head and dropped his eyes as their conversation became personal again. His wandering gaze fell on the open trunk and he let out a gasp as he reflexively backed up a step. The Winchester's turned to him in unison, twin smiles of amusement painted across their weary faces.

"We're hunters" Dean said as he turned back to tending his brother. Honner felt himself nod wordlessly and Sam grinned at his expression, brown eyes sparkling with mirth. Honner relaxed. They obviously hunted things like the wendigo, he was safe with them. They had saved him. The youngest's eyes squeezed shut in pain and Honner found himself wincing sympathetically, clutching automatically at his own injured limb.

"Thank you. Both of you." he blurted, suddenly aware that he hadn't even thanked his saviours. A half hearted smile tugged at the corner of Sam's mouth and Dean nodded once and stood up, dusting snow from his knees. He made his way back to the trunk and collected a blanket that he tucked round his brother. He then turned to Honner.

"Let me check you out." Honner complied and held out his hand. He tried to mimic Sam's stoicism but found himself quite unable to deal with the pain. An asprin found its way into his hand before Dean stitched him up.

"Well we gotta get outta here-I want Sam to get some proper rest…you need a ride somewhere?" Dean asked, stuffing his cold hands into his jean pockets.

"No, my car's over there," Honner pointed behind a tree and Dean made out a shiny gleam in the growing light, "oh and here's your jacket. Thank you again, for everything. If there's anything I can do to return-"

"Mr Honner, we were just doing our job but thanks. If you ever catch wind of anything like this again you give us a call. See you 'round."

With that Dean turned and slid himself behind the wheel, his hand poised at the radio. His hazel eyes fell on Sam. He looked rough; he was shivering violently and his eyes were closed. Dean drew back his hand with a shake of his head and pealed out of the forest clearing, catching sight of Honner in his rear view mirror. The man stood staring after the Impala, waving enthusiastically. Dean allowed a slight smile to appear on his face and stuck his muscled arm out his window to return the gesture. He liked Honner. Sam shifted beside him and a soft groan escaped his lips. Dean found his eyes drawn immediately and they wandered over Sam's sleeping form; he was still pale and the wind whipped his unruly hair about his closed eyes but he was alive. His eyes turned back to the road.

They passed a sign and Dean smirked as he read it and old memories flooded back to him.

"Hey Sammy?" he said quietly. Sam unexpectedly turned his head and bleary eyes to face Dean.

"You're awake!" Dean said in surprise.

"Looks like it" Sam said with a wry smile as he closed his eyes and turned away.

"Hey Sammy?" Dean repeated again.

"Mm?" came the mumbled response.

"I hate camping."

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Well that's it-thanks to everyone who has reviewed and thanks for reading it too. Let me know what you thought of it please! xx


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